Charles Chaim Wax

The Red Thread - Poem by Charles Chaim Wax

I called Foy and told himJack Miller needed to speak to him.“Come right over, ” he said.We drove to Michael Foy’s apartment. I listened to soft jazz on WNEW. Jack closed his eyes.When we arrived Foy sat in the living room his wife Kathy in the bedroom watching TV.I told Foy the sad crazy tale, as best I couldhow Jack stopped loving his wifewhen he met an actressthen felt guilty, sold coketo make a fortune and give itto Carol, his wife of 22 years, thus absolving himself of guiltbut got ripped off, took more money out of the bank, same thing happenednothing left now.Foy said, “We all dream of Paradisethat’s no sin, but selling drugs is a sin.” Jack bent his head forwardresting it between his knees.Foy continued, “You can’t ever go back to the life you had. Tell the truth. Tell everything to everyone.”Jack slowly raised his heada thin stream of saliva stuck to the left side of his chin. He made no effort to wipe it away saying, “I could do that, couldn’t I? ” But there was no conviction in his voice.Kathy came into the living room and asked if we wanted tea or coffee to go with the cinnamon cookiesshe had just baked.I said, “Thanks. That would be wonderful.”Jack said, “I can’t face anyone. Foy, could I live here with you secretly? For a while...until this is all cleared up...I wanted more…now there’s nothing but spikes in my heart. I’m bleeding to death, bad blood leaving a bad body.”Foy remained silent.Kathy brought in tea and cookies, the room at once smelling of cinnamon. I drifted off the balcony to Sumatra and watched huge orangutans float from tree to tree. Their orange fur rippled in the air.A sweet smile curved their lips. The cookies were still warm. They melted in my mouth. I didn’t want to think about Jack nowjust wanted to be with the great apes in the great trees watching life on the forest floor. I looked out the window. Metal planes sailed through an ocean of air to distant places. Silver clouds yielded effortlessly to their mass. No resistance.I walked to the balcony and opened the glass door. A blast of cold air pressed against my warm flesh. I turned and looked back at Jackhis face a solid mask of lead, his heart, I supposed, a dead end sadness, all the more terrifying because he had seen Paradise, but had gotten lost on the way to that fabled spot. If only he had said to Carol, “I’m leaving. I found another woman. I don’t want to hurt you but I have to leave.”Unfortunately he didn’t say that, and now he could never say that. Not after the lies. Their money gone.I walked inside to silence. I took another cookie into my mouth but no dreams came. Jack went into the bathroom. After a moment he returned and sat on the couch.Kathy said, “I have to get up early in the morning to go to work.” Then she left the room.I took a third cookie into my mouth.It had cooled slightly but was still warm.Foy said, “There is no harm done.” Then he became silent as if he did not believe in what he had just said.Jack’s head fell back on the couchhis eyes closing. After a moment he said, “The game’s up, Bernstein.” There was a lightness in his voice which surprised me.I gazed out into the darkness. The planes still sailed to distant places. I looked at Jack and wanted to say something, but couldn’t.Foy ate a cookie and smiled, then ate another and another. A great golden glow suffused his face, and for an instant the gloomin the room was gone.I whispered, “The great orangutans of Borneo and Sumatra sleep well in the cinnamon trees tonight, as well they should being both good and free.”Jack laughed at that, but only for a moment. And then he wept.